


I Need You

by onoheiwa



Series: A Kiss is Worth a Thousand Words [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam, Angst, Dean Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Feels, First Kiss, Gentle kiss, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, S1E21, slow kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onoheiwa/pseuds/onoheiwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night that Sam first spots Azazel while rescuing a family from the fire. Back at the motel, he's pissed at his brother for not letting him run in to kill the demon while Dean is just anxious because John isn't answering his phone. It leads to a fight but for once the two of them actually say everything that they're thinking and feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need You

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments, good, bad, praises, suggestions, advice, criticisms, whatever. I like knowing what people think about my writing, honestly. So whatever you got, hit me with it. You might hurt my feelings but it builds character and pushes me to write better, which means you get to read better stuff. So really, it benefits you in the end more than me.
> 
>  
> 
> Alright, this one takes place at the end of season 1 at the very end of episode 21, but like all of the fics in this series it will diverge from the canon a bit. It starts in that tense scene where Sam gets pissed at Dean for not letting him run into the burning house after Azazel. 
> 
> I've always felt like Dean is a lot lonelier and needs his family far more than he ever lets on - I mean it becomes obvious when he sells his soul to save Sam, but even in by this episode you can see how much he holds back what he's really think and feeling, how hurt is that John and Sam seem to function just fine without him. 
> 
> I have a lot of Dean-feels. I wouldn't peg him as a weepy feels type, one who's always sad and whatever like some fic writers do. He's a tough guy, as shown by the fact that no one even realizes that he's lonely, because he puts up such a good front. I think most of the time he probably doesn't even think about it, but it's probably always there, the underlying sense that he needs his family way more than they need him. 
> 
> Or maybe I'm just projecting onto him my own feelings :) Probably not a good thing for a writer to be doing. -covers face in shame-  
> Anyway, that's what this fic is. Lots of Dean-feels. If that's not your thing, just skip it ;)

"Come on Dad, answer your phone, dammit!"  Dean was pacing the motel room, listening to his father's phone ring over and over without anyone picking up. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even bother leaving voicemails anymore, just hung up after a few rings since he knew he was just going to call back again in a few minutes. 

 

He glanced at Sam. "Somethin's wrong." No answer. He looked over at his brother sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, noticing the tension radiating off of the man. "You hear me? Somethin's happening." 

 

"If you had just let me go in there... I could've ended all of this." 

 

Dean felt confusion roll through him and walked closer to his brother, not understanding why his brother was so upset about Dean preventing him from running into a burning building that was minutes away from collapsing. "Sam. The only thing you would've ended was your life." 

 

Sam looked up, anger barely under control. "You don't know that." 

 

"So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?" 

 

Sam stood up, hackles rising and conviction strong in his voice. "Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am." 

 

Dean held back a laugh. How the tables had turned; normally it was him that was the reckless one that Sam had to hold back, but Dean had never been borderline suicidal like this. His own recklessness came from sheer arrogance, believing he could survive anything; when Sam was reckless it was because he just didn't care if he got hurt or killed, believed he had nothing to lose. "Yeah, well that's not gonna happen, not as long as I'm around." If Sam wanted to be stupid, that was fine, but he would be there to protect him anyway and keep him from getting hurt. He started to turn around, until his brother's angry words sounded in his head. 

 

"What the hell are you talking about Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about." 

 

Dean turned around in shock, though his face stayed clear of it. Since when had Sam cared so much about finding this demon? Sure, he had wanted to waste the thing, but hunting had never been his main priority. For years the only thing Sam had wanted was a normal life but now Sam sounded just like their Dad who would put the wellbeing of his own sons on hold if it meant a shot at the demon. Sam had never been so single-mindedly focused on revenge like this.

 

"Sam, I wanna waste it, I do. Okay? But it's not worth dyin' over." 

 

"What?" He sounded shocked, completely thrown like the idea of death not being worth it was completely foreign. 

 

"I mean it. If huntin' this demon means you gettin' yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing." Dean had never been more certain of anything in his whole life. Sam was everything to him, nothing was more important. Sometimes how he felt for his brother was so powerful he could hardly stand it and sometimes he wasn't even entirely sure what exactly it was that he felt for him. Right now, though, the only thing in Dean's head was  _protect Sam!_  He figured if he could get Sam to slow down and think a little then the man would go back to his usual calm and rational self.

 

Sam was normally so levelheaded, so intelligent and always thought things through. He was just worked up right now; if he stopped to think he would realize that running into that house would have been useless. They would get another chance. Dean knew that their whole drive as a family, the whole reason they hunted wasn't really about saving people - it was about building up their skills and finding leads on the demon so they could catch up to it and waste the twisted creature. In a way, Dean was grateful for Sam's sudden enthusiasm and conviction about the necessity to find it and kill it, but he was getting too caught up in this. Dean needed his brother back, the calm and collected one who always knew what to do and got his older brother to chill out and think rationally. 

 

But right now Sam was practically vibrating in anger, eyes spitting and crackling with energy and hate, voice coming out harsh and grating. "That thing killed Jess." 

 

Dean felt like he'd been slapped and recoiled, eyes blinking in surprise. He had forgotten about her, honestly forgotten one of the major driving forces for Sam.  _Stupid. This isn't even about family, this about Sam and that he lost his perfect, normal life. It has nothing to do with_  _you._  

 

"That thing killed Mom."

 

The emotion in Sam's voice wasn't even pain over their Mother's death, it was more like he was reminding Dean of it rather than something that Sam felt was a reason for himself. Dean realized that this was about revenge for Sam now, pure and simple, not loyalty to his family.

 

Dean wanted to kill the demon for revenge, he really did. The monster had taken his mother from him. But keeping his family, what remained of it, near and safe? That was so much more important and he had never been one to linger over thoughts of the dead. The demon needed to die because it was a monster and it killed innocent people. Dean would have gone after it regardless, the damn thing had just made it personal. But the dead were dead and there was no reason to ruin your whole life when nothing you could ever do would bring them back. The fact that Sam seemed to care more about the dead, those he had lost, than the family here right in front of him, that he was willing to leave them behind he got reckless? Well... 

 

Dean set his face, burying the hurt and the jealousy and the anger, keeping up the calm persona. "You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never comin' back." 

 

Suddenly, Sam grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt, shoving him backward and slamming him into the nearest wall. "Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this, don't you say that!" His face was contorted in his fury, voice low and deep but loud and rasping with anger. 

 

Dean just looked back at him calm and sad, unable to work up the energy to be angry, just feeling a deep hurt settling into his chest, reminded that no one ever needed him as much as he needed them, that after all the effort he put forth to keep his family together they would just keep on being angry and stupid and tearing it all apart again and again. He spoke to his brother, his voice starting to crack under the weight of emotion, the hurt and raw honesty to his words. "Sam, look. The three of us. That's all we have. It's all I have." 

 

Sam's eyes started to fill with tears, some from anger, some from... Dean thought maybe it looked like sorrow. 

 

"Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man." Dean had always been lonely. He had been more like a father to Sammy sometimes than a brother, with no one to be his dad. John had done the best he could, yes, but he was not a good father, leaving Dean to fend for himself with no one to talk to about his frustrations. And after Sam, the only friend he had ever had, had left for school, Dean had only made it because of his dad. He was finally old enough for his father to think of him as a man and they provided each other companionship. They were close, they knew each other, but they were not the kind of family that  _talked_. Sam had been the only person he could ever do that with and even then it had been stilted and awkward half the time. And then he left. And Dean had been alone, had nothing at all for years. 

 

But then Dad had gone missing and Jess had died, and both of those things were awful, but it had brought Sam back and they had gotten closer as brothers and friends in the last few months then they ever had been before. Dean  _needed_ Sam, the Sam who was funny and played dumb pranks and ate stupid salads with his stupid floppy hair and gigantic body. Sam with a brain good enough for Stanford and the skills and prowess of a hunter but had always wanted to save every alley cat and abandoned puppy on the streets. Sam who made Dean laugh until he cried and pushed him to be a better person and patched him up after a bad hunt and whined about his music choices and made fun him for his devotion to the car and had freaky visions. Sam who pouted with the best Bambi eyes and knew what Dean was thinking with a glance and was so  _good_ it made Dean gag sometimes but mostly just made him ridiculously proud. His  _Sammy_ had come back and he  _needed_ him.

 

But this Sam in front of him wasn't that Sam. This Sam was so full of anger and thoughts of revenge that he would pay any cost, even dying. This Sam was willing to give up his dream of a normal life, life at all, if it meant death to the demon.

 

That wasn't Sam, not even the hunter Sam who hated all monsters. Killing had never been so important to him unless an innocent life was at stake. Right now, though, killing for the sake of someone who wasn't even alive anymore was Sam's top priority and the difference in the man before him was so striking, so disturbing and heart wrenching that Dean could hardly hold back tears. 

 

Sam's face was crumpling, though, and he took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. Dean felt a little bit of hope creep in, thinking he was finally getting through. 

 

"Without you or Dad..."  

 

Sam tried to get his breathing under control and shifted Dean's shirt collar around, attempting to get it back in order before suddenly stepping away. Dean wasn't sure why he felt so disappointed, but as the heat of Sam's body moved away from his front, Dean's heart dropped to the floor. 

 

"Dad." Sam was scrubbing at his eyes before turning back to Dean and trying to calm himself. "He should've called by now. Try him again." 

 

Dean stayed leaning against the wall, looking down at the phone in his hand wondering why checking in on his father didn't seem nearly as important as he knew it should be right now. His brother was back, calm and focused, doing exactly what Dean had wanted him to, but for some reason Sam walking even that three feet away had made his heart feel like it was breaking. 

 

Sam noticed his silence and looked at him curiously, taking a step forward. "Dean? What is it?" 

 

Dean gripped his cell tightly in his fist, trying to sort through the swirl of emotions in his head. "I... I just..." 

 

"...Dean?" 

 

"Sam. You... you can't leave me, okay? It's not just about dying not being worth it to kill this demon. It's not even just about family and us being all we have. It's about  _me._ I...  _I_ need you. I need you here with me, or-" he wasn't sure he wanted to say what was swirling around in his head and the fear of Sam's reaction made him hesitate. 

 

"Or what, Dean?" Sam's voice had gone gentle, but curiosity laced through it, probably because Dean never said stuff like this. 

 

It was that quiet curiosity that pushed him over the edge, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could slow down and think about what he was saying. "Or... I'm not sure I can go on. I told you, I'm barely holding it together most times. And you know what always keeps me going? You, Sam. You're always there to get me out of bed in the morning with your stupid hair and that goofy grin and a cup of coffee. You're there to fix up me up after a fight goes wrong or to tell me when I'm bein' stupid and reckless. You make me remember what's important, that hunts are more about protecting people than it is about killing monsters. You help me be better, to be  _good_." 

 

"What are you sayin'? That I can't be reckless and get myself killed because you need me around to keep you in line? Since when have I ever been able to get you to do anything?" 

 

"Since always, Sam! God, you really don't get it do you? You just being here makes me a better person. If you knew what I had been like while you were at school..." 

 

"Oh, I think I can imagine." 

 

"No." Dean laughed self-deprecatingly. "No, you really can't. I'm a mess without you, I'm a jerk and a bastard. And... And every time I think maybe you need me around too, you say something about going back to your normal life and leaving again. Leaving me." 

 

"Dean... you... you can't possibly need me that much. You've always been the strong one, always been the one that took care of me and told me to be a man and stand on my own feet." Sam looked at Dean with confused wonder, like he couldn't believe the words coming out of his brother's mouth. 

 

Dean laughed again, a short huff of air, and dropped his head, looking down at his feet. "Yeah, sorry to disappoint little brother, but I've never been like that myself. I've always needed someone, needed you. I've never been able to go it on my own, no matter what I've said. I'm not strong Sammy." 

 

"No. No, you don't get to say that."

 

Dean looked up in surprise to see Sam with fists clenched at his side and tears of frustration barely restrained in his eyes. "Sam?" 

 

"I've spent my whole life trying to be like you, trying to be strong, telling myself I can't need you, that I have to be fine on my own. Like you. That I shouldn't feel this way, like my whole world will fall apart without you. And I did it! I learned, I forced myself to learn how to live without you around, to be okay without you, even though it  _hurt_ to be away from you. I needed you and I told myself it was wrong to need you so much. That if you were strong enough to not need anyone I could be too. And you're telling me I did all of that for nothing? That if I had just said so, just insisted that I couldn't do that, that I needed you-" Sam's voice cut off with a strangled sound, a tear slipping past his walls as his eyes slid closed. 

 

Dean stood there stunned for a moment, processing his brothers words. He finally took a few steps forward and gripped Sam's upper arms. "Sam? I'm sorry, I- I'm sorry." 

 

The look on Sam's face when he opened his eyes, full of so much sadness and pain, tore at Dean's heart. A desperate desire to wipe it away, to stop his Sammy from hurting so badly, was the only explanation Dean could give for what happened next. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his brother's. 

 

Sam's lips were soft, if a little dry, and Dean could feel a little bit of stubble on his chin. It was that sensation, so strange and different from what he was used to, that made him realize what he was doing, and he reared back in surprise, eyes wide. 

 

"Sam- I'm sorry, I don't know why I... I just-" 

 

Sam was looking at him blankly, eyes a little shocked, but it was the lack of anger that had Dean's mouth closing. He had expected to get punched or yelled at instantaneously but Sam just stood there looking at him. Dean stood there looking back, fingers twitching nervously, but otherwise still, waiting for his brother to react. 

 

It was nearly a minute before anything happened. Sam stepped forward deliberately, stopping right in front of Dean, their chests bare centimeters apart. Dean looked up, face open, vulnerable. "...Sam?" 

 

Sam leaned down, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips to Dean's, a bit of hesitancy in the movement. Dean stood stock still for a moment, shocked and unsure what to do, until deciding to just go with it, accepting whatever consequences would come after. He didn't do anything but relax his body, tentatively resting the fingertips of one hand on Sam's forearm. Sam did nothing for a few long moments and then slowly, oh so slowly, let his lips shift, pulling away and pressing back again, both lips over Dean's top one. Dean let his own lips wrap around Sam's barely, letting the younger man control what happened. 

 

Sam held the kiss for a few moments, before shifting slightly again, putting his own lips back against Dean's, in the slowest, most gentle kiss Dean had ever had. Both of their eyes were closed and the only point of contact between their bodies was their mouths and Dean's hand on Sam's arm and Sam's own hand that he reached up to rest against his brother's face, but Dean felt a heat begin to pool in his belly and spread throughout his body. A warmth that felt like contentment and rightness. It wasn't until that moment that Dean realized why his feelings for Sam had been so hard to explain at times, because he never would have thought he could feel this way about his brother, and God help him he didn't even care. It didn't matter that it was wrong, that people would probably be disgusted by it. It felt so right, like a part of him had been missing until now. Sam had always been necessary, he had always been what made Dean feel content, happy, complete. But this? This was the last missing piece to his life, to his lonely heart. Dean thought that if he could have this he would never feel lonely again. 

 

So he was going to enjoy this as long as it lasted. Sam would probably realize what he was doing in a minute, think about it and be disgusted with himself and then things would get awkward and Sam would probably leave as soon as they finished hunting the demon down. But for these next few moments Dean was going to let himself have this, was going to let himself be completely and entirely happy and he would deal with the fallout later. Sam had already left him once, he would figure out how to deal with it a second time. Just not yet, not right now. 

 

Sam continued to kiss him in that slow, gentle, hesitant way, lips resting in one place for long moments, before shifting and stilling again and again. Dean jolted when he felt Sam's lips part and his tongue sneak out to drag lightly against  the bottom of Dean's upper lip. He couldn't help the quiet whimper from escaping his mouth and Sam pulled back at the sound, eliciting another needy sound from his older brother. Sam looked down at Dean, face still empty, eyes not revealing anything, and Dean, for once, let his face show everything he was thinking and feeling. The need, the hope, his desperation and loneliness and how perfect and right that kiss had felt. Everything. Sam's eyes roved over his face, drinking it all in, absorbing the information and processing it so quickly Dean couldn't keep up with the thoughts rolling across Sam's eyes. 

 

Suddenly, the ringing of a phone filled the room. Dean jumped, startled and pulled his hand up where it still gripped his now vibrating cell. Sam reached up and took the phone, flipping it open. 

 

"Hello?" He listened momentarily before his face hardened. "Where?" He nodded once, then said, "We'll be there" and then flipped the phone closed. He looked down at Dean, eyes steely. "That was Meg. On Dad's phone." 

 

Dean felt his stomach drop. He had momentarily forgotten about his father off trying to trick the demons with a fake colt. "Is he alive?" 

 

"Yes, but we need to go." 

 

"Right. Right, yeah, let's go." 

 

"Wait, Dean?" Sam had reached out and grabbed Dean's forearm when he tried to walk back over to his stuff.

 

Dean turned back to look at his brother, nervousness making him reluctant to hear his next words, but Sam's eyes were back to that gentle stillness from before the phone call. "Yeah?" 

 

"I... Thank you. For setting me straight. And for-" He cut himself off abruptly and changed tracks. "We're gonna talk about this. After we get Dad back, we're gonna talk about this. But... I want you to know... I wouldn't have done that if it wasn't something that I really wanted." 

 

Dean felt his breath catch and a lump form in his throat, making it hard to speak. "...Yeah?" 

 

"Yeah." Sam's cheeks flushed slightly, and his fingers tightened around Dean's arm. "So... Well, you can't leave either. I need you too." 

 

Dean's eyes widened. "Sam." 

 

Sam looked at him, smiling tentatively for a long moment, before ducking his head. He looked back up a moment later, the steel intent leaking back into his face. "But we'll talk about it later. We need to go." 

 

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." 

 

They grabbed their packs and walked out, locking the door behind them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, I just love this one so much! I've already finished the next three, but I came back to read this one today and fell in love with it all over again. Maybe it's the Dean-feels, but I think it's just the general sweetness and tenderness of this one. It may end up being my favorite out of all of them.


End file.
